


Teleporting Dogs

by lilypond8



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And I'm still mad at how they treated Luna, Developing Friendships, Its been two years and i just finished the game, Kid Fic, Multi, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, That's really presumptuous of me, character devopment, it's still gay tho, lol like she had a character to be out of, no beta readers we die like men, out of character Luna, probably', so Im fixing that shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypond8/pseuds/lilypond8
Summary: The dog had something hanging from around her neck. It was thick, like the lanyards he had to wear for school, but instead of a i.d. hanging from it, it was a small journal. He reached out a hand, but hesitated. Tiny bumped her head on his hand encouraging his primal curiosity.There was only one thing written on the first page. Large yet elegant curving script read encompassed most of the page.STOP TRYING TO GIVE MY DOG DIABETES.Or, The story of how a young neglected child was blessed by the Oracle, and how both their lives were changed forever.





	Teleporting Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, I've never seen brotherhood. This is one big au based off my warped memory of starting this game two years ago and just barely finding it in my heart to finish it. Plus I wanted to fix some things, mainly Luna. I sob at the loss of her potential. Anyways endgame is Prompto and Noctis so if you don't dig that... I dunno there's plenty of fan fiction for you to discover. Spread your wings. Explore. Write something yourself. That's what I'm doing, and I have a essay due in 24 hours.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dog had something hanging from around her neck. It was thick, like the lanyards he had to wear for school, but instead of a i.d. hanging from it, it was a small journal. He reached out a hand, but hesitated. Tiny bumped her head on his hand encouraging his primal curiosity.  
> There was only one thing written on the first page. Large yet elegant curving script read encompassed most of the page.
> 
> STOP TRYING TO GIVE MY DOG DIABETES.
> 
> Or, The story of how a young neglected child was blessed by the Oracle, and how both their lives were changed forever.

Prompto is nine when he sees a small dog outside his home.

The other kids in the neighborhood don’t like him. They say he can’t play with them because he runs too slow and it would just ruin the fun, but he knows that’s not true. One of the nicer kids says its to protect his binoculars, which he keeps on his person at all times. But he knows that's not quite true either. Still the sting of rejection is enough to stay inside during summer break, sitting at the window with binoculars clinking against thick rimmed glasses.

There isn’t much wildlife in the city. Sure he’s seen a few squirrels, maybe a few birds here and there (the yellow ones are especially pretty) and enough rats to last a lifetime (One. One is enough). And while he has at least seen a dog before, it was usually at the end of a leash. But he saw no such thing on this animal. The people that crowd the streets ignore the dog like it’s not even there.

Still, he observes, half out of curiosity, and half out of boredom. He doesn’t know a whole lot about dogs. He knows that they come in all different colors and shapes, and he knows that some are dangerous. But there’s one thing khe knows for sure- they shouldn’t walk like that.

It’s holding its front paw up off the ground in a poor attempt to limp down the busy road. Prompto watches it slowly make it’s way past his apartment building, and into the alleyway across the street. He shifts onto his elbows to get a better look. The animal seemed to ponder the space, before settling under a broken gutter near the entrance. 

It’s at that moment that Prompto’s stomach growls, and he wonders if the dog is hungry too. Maybe it’d be ok too just… “Mom! Dad! There's a dog outside, can I feed it?” He drops his binoculares and lets them swing from the cord around his neck and waits. He’s not surprised when there’s no answer, used to them going on suprise business trips by now. But if they aren't around to say yes...they can’t say no either. Which is how he finds himself perched precariously on a chair digging through the cabinets. When he opens the first one, the dust is so thick he sneezes and almost falls off the chair. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, but it isn’t the most pleasant experience either. When he rights himself, he realizes that that the cabinets empty. The result’s the same no matter where he looks, but that also isn’t necessarily a surprise either. Even when his parents were around they would more often than not take him out to eat instead. So he runs down the street to Kenny’s. The restaurant chain sells burgers, fries, and not much else, but it’s good enough for the time being. He doesn’t have that much to spend, so he orders a sandwich, and a large serving of fries instead what he usually gets. The cashier tries to give him his receipt, but he’s already out the door, paper bag in hand. He doesn't even care when the other kids see him and make fun of how his arms jiggle or how slow he runs, he doesn't want the dog to leave before he can at least try to feed it.

He makes it back to the mouth of the alleyway with sweat beading on his forehead and his lungs burning. The dog just cocks it head at him, curious but making no move to investigate. Once Prompto can breath properly, he realises that he doesn’t exactly know what to do either. He remembers a nature documentary he saw a long time ago, and possibly remembers the ranglers letting the animals sniff their hands? The memorie’s fuzzy at the edges of his mind, and he doesn’t remember all the details, but that seems to be as good as any other shot in the dark. 

He approaches slowly, knees bent and one hand outstretched. He’s about a arm’s length away when the animal bares it teeth and _**growls**_ ). It’s so sudden that Prompto falls back, landing sharply on his back side and scrambling backwards as fast a humanly possible. He didn’t even notice he’d dropped his food until he heard the paper rip, and saw the dog’s muzzle dig around in the bag. “Hey..! That’s mine…” he said it, but the dog just bared it teeth again, this time dripping with bloody-looking ketchup, and he decided that he was done feeding dogs for the day.

He goes home hungry, but not exactly downtrodden. Maybe it's all those lifetime movies (you know the ones; where the girl tames the untamable horse and saves the farm) he’s not technically allowed to watch, but he’s gonna try again the next morning. 

 

It ends much in the same way, with a nasty bruise creeping up the base of his spine, but this time he stays. He watches the dog from the other side of the alleyway, and how ravenus it looks tearing into the paper, probably eating a lot of non-digestible by products, but he also notices just how thin it looks. Lifting the binoculars to his face, he notices so many things he missed from across the street. How its ribs poke out from its sternum, and how heavily it’s breathing. Its fur is matted in some places, and it looks exhausted. Something shimmers in the corner of his eye, and he notices what’s keeping this animal here. It’s a glass shard, large and dirtied with dried blood wedged between the toes of its front paw.

He reaches out -out of empathy or curiosity he doesn't know- but he knows he wants to help it. The response is still hostile, with sharp teeth bared and a snarl, but it doesn’t lunge at him. It’s probably too tired. He realises that that's probably as much as he’s going to get out of this encounter and goes home to try again tomorrow.

********

It's a week until Prompto is allowed to pet her. 

He knows its a she because only his mom is this demanding. She only like burgers with ketchup on them, and only tolerated the ones with mustard he gave her because she was practically starving. His parents aren't home yet, but they’ve been sending money his way ever so often. He shudders to think of what his mother would say about him “wasting” his money on a charity case. 

“She’d probably yell at me.” he sulks. He’s sitting on the wall opposite the gutter. It's almost completely eroded away save for a few bricks, but it's enough to be closer to his companion. He’s taken to talking to her. She doesn’t talk back, but it's nice to get these things off his chest. He’s told her about his classmates, and how they ignore him, how he’s really insecure about his freckles, and about Cindy, the older girl that works at Kenny’s sometimes who he thinks is the most beautiful person ever, even if all girls have cooties. At this point, the dog probably knows more about him than his own mother does. If he’s completely honest, he doesn't know if she’s listening, but ever so often, he’ll catch this look- like she knows exactly who and what he’s talking about, and today is no acception.

“So I got this letter. It’s from mom and dad, it says they aren’t coming home for a while,” There's a watery tone to his voice. “Its fine- I guess, I know there busy and stuff. But they could at least sa-say goodbye, you know?” His glasses are fogging up and it takes a moment for him to realize that he’s crying. Openly balling in front of a dog. He feels stupid. Like maybe this last week was really a waste of time and money and he’s so angry at- at someone. Anyone. His parents. Himself? 

Hot tears streak down his face, blurring his vision. He’s so confused, he doesn’t notice the dog, limping towards him, until it places a paw on his knee. It’s such a small gesture, but it makes the tears dry up. He’s still sniffling, and his face and eyes are probably still puffy and gross. He reaches out a tentative hand anyways, and when she doesn't growl or protest, runs his fingers through the fur on her neck. It's only now that he realizes just how small the dog really is. Maybe it's the distance between them but he honestly thought this dog was bigger. But she’s just a puppy. “Your so tiny.” He says through the sniffles. He pets her into the night, almost forgetting why he was upset in the first place.

**********

It’s another week until she starts following him around.

“Tiny! Hey girl, how's it going?” Prompto calls out to her, gently running his fingers through her matted fur. The nickname sticks, and fortunately, the dog in question doesn't seem to mind. She just yawns lazily, and lets Prompto shower her in affection.

“I’ll be right back,” he says absent mindedly. It’s been two weeks and his parents still arent home. They said it’s a emergency, and while any other time he’d be sulking, he has a new friend so it’s not too bad. Still, that does make food a problem, as he doesn’t have enough money left (buying for two is like that, he learns).Still it makes him nervous when he walks into the kennys. The bell chimes over head the cashier looks up from her phone.

“Welcome to Kenny Crow’s Nest, how may I help ya?” Its Cindy, the girl of his dreams. Except he’s doubtful that he could think up someone as beautiful as her. Her skin is a golden brown like the kids who play outside all day, and her hair is gold and hangs in loose curls around her face. And she’s got the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen.

“You alright sugar? You look flushed.” she says, and breaks the spell over him. He doesn’t want to tell her. He doesn't want to tell anyone if he's being completely honest. He ducks his head shyly and mumbles under his breath. “What’s that? Yall have to speak up now.”

“I don't have enough money.” He admits holding up what little change he has left. 

She just nods sagely. “Hmm, yea yer a little short there.” He’s prepared to go home empty handed when she shoves a greased up paper bag into his hands, “So how bout we just keep this one to ourselves, right darlin?” Prompto just nods, dazed by that fact that Cindy just used a pet name for him. “Now,” she clears her throat, “Get goin, would ya?”

Maybe it's all the blood rushing to his head, but he leaves in a rush and almost trips over in the process. He flails for a second, and turns to the small yipping sound coming from behind him. Its Tiny, looking no worse for wear- sort of. She’s still really dirty, but sleeping outside will do that to you. Still Prompto is quick to sink to his knees and shower her in apologizes ranging from “Ohemgee I’m so sorry!” to “I can’t believe I’ve done this. I have to die to preserve my honor.” Tiny doesn’t look like she understands, but she does lick his hands as they glide through her fur, which is a much forgiveness as he thinks he’s gonna get. 

He walks slowly on the way home, allowing Tiny to keep pace with him as he tells her about his eventful morning. The conversation is completely one sided, and most of it revolves around the benevolent angel that is Cindy, but Prompto doesn’t mind so much anymore. That is until he hears the other kids on the street. They are loud and boisterous, and he hopes that they are so caught up in their game that they won’t notice him.

He’s debating taking another way around when a loud voice reaches his ears. “Hey! That dog is following the weird kid.” They come over in droves and it sets Prompto’s anxieties on high alert. He inadvertently remembers how they laughed at his ill-fitting clothes and the red marks on his arms and legs. Prompto closes his eyes and clutches his binoculares in one hand, as if expecting to be hit.

“Can we pet your dog?” One of them asks. Prompto blinks.

“Uh...I dunno. I don't think she likes it very much.” Prompto answers honestly. He still remembers his first encounter with her. But no one heeds his warnings and one of the older boys- Caius, his brain helpfully provides- leans down to pet Tiny, only to have her latch onto his fingers.

“She bit me! Get her off! Tell her to let go!” The other boy is thrashing around, throwing tiny side to side in a attempt to get her loose. 

Prompto’s panicking too, but he doesn’t know what to do in this situation. “She’s just scared! Stop!” He pushes Caius. He didn’t mean to, but he did and watches in horror as the other boy tumbles to the ground. Tiny Releases his fingers and darts back to Prompto, but the damage is already done. 

Caius is looking down at his index and middle fingers, both practically skinned to bone, “Your shitty dog bit me.” His voice seems so far away, like he’s not even talking to Prompto anymore. The other kids are hooping and hollering, but all Prompto can focus on is the the angry expressing on Caius’ face that’s growing with every comment. 

_Your just gonna let some mutt do that to you? ___  
_You probably have rabies now… _  
_What are you gonna do?___

__

_____ _

Prompto drops the greasy bag in favor of Tiny, who whimpers, but doesn’t protest to much as they flee. Prompto will have to thank his self preservation instincts, as not a minute latter he hears Caius’ angry screaming followed by the squeaking of sneakers on the rough asphalt. They duck into the alleyway, the one with the broken gutter. Prompto’s lungs are screaming for him to stop. Stop running. Stop moving. 

____

____

____

The other kids followed quickly, and all of the sudden, the alley where he once felt so safe became a tomb. Caius approached slowly as the group lined the exit. They were probably trying to get a good view of the fight, but they only effectively trapped the two in the dark damp alleyway. That's when Caius reeled back, and threw the first punch.

____

____

____

Prompto actually remembers Caius being nice. He remembers a kind word here and there. A offered hand. A compliment on his binoculares comes to mind. Nothing too spectacular, but substantial enough to come to the forefront of his mind before Caius’ fist connects with Prompto’s face.

____

____

____

It knocks him off his feet, glasses sprawled on the other side of the gutter. He ends up hunched over Tiny with his arms on either side of the dog. He’s been in fights before, and knows that he should protect his head and neck, but he needs to protect Tiny. He doesn’t really understand why at the time, maybe it’s because she’s been his constant companion for the past two weeks, maybe he’s just a sap. He can’t tell when the other boy hooks a foot between his arm and the concrete and pulls, causing him to almost slam his his head into Tiny. He just barely misses by supporting his weight with his elbow, but the pain makes the heat behind his eyes that more intense, and they well up, threatening to spill over. He doesn’t even have time to process weather he’s bleeding or not when the older boy lands another hit, this time in his gut, and knocks the wind right out of Prompto. His breath hitches and tears spill from his eyes at the pain.

____

____

____

His eyesight blurs with time, it was probably only a few minutes but it felt like hours to him. When he finally comes back to himself, Caius and his friends are retreating with the sun and Tiny is whimpering and licking at the dried tear stains on his face. It’s...not all bad if he’s being completely honest. Usually after things like this he would drag himself home to a bandaging from his mother, and a lecture from his father. Stick up for yourself! Fight back! He would say, but Prompto never really felt the need. Sure he never wanted to get beat up, but he also never felt the need to actually throw a punch either.

____

____

____

Until today that is. He couldn’t believe he actually pushed Caius in front of everyone. It felt...kinda good? He was still thinking about what exactly that meant for him, whenTiny broke through his thoughts by licking his fingers. He hiccuped, realizing he was crying and exhausted. “Hey Tiny, wanna get cleaned up?” The small dog yipped in response, so he scooped her up along with his now fractured glasses, and made his way back to his house.

____

____

____

He flicked the lights on and walked into a empty house. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what his mom would say if she saw her son, ragged and beaten, brining in a puppy that was equally as haggard looking, but he shakes that off quickly in favor of drawing bath water.

____

____

____

Tiny hadn’t made a attempt to move. She just sat patiently in Prompto’s arms as the bath water rose. He stroked her fur slowly, wondering if he even had the tools to clean a puppy right. Did they even make dog shampoo? He decided to use his mom’s shampoo (it’s fancy and has the words “organic” and “vegan” on it) and slowly gets to working the mats out of Tiny’s fur. She complies for most of it, until he gets to her paw, the injured one. She growls at him, so he doesn’t press his luck after today. He learns that her fur is white and not the grey he first thought. It makes her looks...more approachable than when they first met. After a while the water turns a dark brown and he decides that’s enough cleaning for now. 

____

____

____

He patches himself up too, disinfectant and bandages flying. He’s quite proficient at it, despite his age. He knows where to look for antiseptics and what types of bandages to uses to most effectively. He can even tell if he’s broken any ribs. He doesn’t, thank goodness, but that won’t stop the bruises from blooming all over his body. Still, his eyes keep migrating back to Tiny’s injured paw. He wants to try something. “Wait right here!” He yells with one foot out the door. He come back with the nail clipper set, a towel, and his handkerchief. He kneels down and holds out his hand,“Ok… give me your paw.” That obviously does not happen. She bares her teeth at him and growls, again. “Don’t be a baby. What if that thing gets infected? How will you live with yourself?” He’s half joking, but it is a miracle that the wound isn’t infected and bleeding puss everywhere (He had a bad experience in 3rd grade). Surprisingly, after hearing his dramatic pleading, she whines and places her paw in his hand.

____

____

____

He’s shocked, but not shocked enough to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. He takes the tweezers into his free hand. “This is gonna hurt.” He grimaces as the tweezers grip either side of the glass piece. He pulls upward, and to his relief, it slides out with little resistance. Tiny is crying, but if it means avoiding a infection, he’ll take it. He’s quick to clean it up, rinsing the wound of blood and dirt, then using peroxide to disinfect. It’s still bleeding pretty badly, so he ties it up with his handkerchief and hopes he didn’t mess it up. Dogs and people are very different after all.

____

____

____

Once he’s done cleaning them both up, it’s like the drama of the entire day catches up with him, and he’s tired. Exhausted. He doesn’t even make it back to his room, and just leans back on the bathroom wall and closes his eyes with Tiny in his arms.

____

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*****

____

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It takes three weeks and one day for Tiny to leave him.

____

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____

Everyone does eventually, but it still hurt to wake up the next morning alone. 

____

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____

At first he disoriented, headache intensifying as he rolls his neck to look around. _He’s...in the bathroom...on the floor? Why would he-_ he eyed the towel, crumpled and bloodied sitting at the top of the hamper in the corner.

____

____

____

It all comes rushing back, and there’s a particular ache in his heart when he realizes the just how empty his arms are.

____

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____

Still, he holds onto the smallest sliver of hope that maybe Tiny’s just exploring the apartment, and she’ll run back to him after she’s done.

____

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____

So he waits. He waits for ten minutes.

____

____

____

When that doesn’t work, he decides to look for her. Getting up is challenge. The purple bruises blooming on his arms get aggravated easily, and the one his stomach makes him feel ill just looking at it. Still, he somehow gets to his feet, and wobbly walks through the house calling Tiny’s name. There’s nothing. No response. No light tapping sound from the little pads of the bottom of her feet. Nothing.

____

____

____

He knew this was going to happen, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to handle. He was alone. He’d been alone for weeks, but the first time he’d made a friend, she’d left too. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that not even his own parents wanted to be around him. He couldn't even get a dog to stay around. His hand clenched into a fist as frustrated tears fell from his eyes.

____

____

____

He couldn’t stay there forever. He wanted too, but his stomach was already pained from not eating all day yesterday. So gets up and goes to the mailbox, hoping that his parents would remember acknowledge his existence long enough to feed him.

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They didn't. He sighed as he closes the empty mailbox. There was no point in walking to Kenny's now. He was out of cash, and out of friends. 

____

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He decided to go back inside and bird watch. It was always easier to focus after looking at the birds in the neighborhood. Birds had always captured his Imagination. He could usually only catch a glimpse of one before it took off out of sight, but they were beautiful and sometimes changed colors with the light. There were fleeting, yet real. There, yet not at the same time. 

____

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He perched himself in his favorite spot in his home, at the window facing the alley way with the broken gutter, and lifted his binoculares to his eyes. There, across the street, he saw a small white dog wagging its tail and looking right at him, as if smiling. That’s all he could make out before said dog was on top of him, nuzzling his face with her muzzle, and barking like she was telling him all about her day. 

____

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____

“Tiny! You- .your back!” He couldn't believe his eyes, “Where'd you come from girl?” Prompto said petting her head while looking across the street where she appeared to be not five seconds earlier. She let out one sharp sounding bark, as if to say none of your business, but something caught his eye. The dog had something hanging from around her neck. It was thick, like the lanyards he had to wear for school, but instead of a i.d. hanging from it, it was a small journal. He reached out a hand, but hesitated. Tiny bumped her head on his hand encouraging his primal curiosity.  
There was only one thing written on the first page. Large yet elegant curving script read encompassed most of the page.

____

____

____

STOP TRYING TO GIVE MY DOG DIABETES.

____

____

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it through. Some how. I swear there's a comma in every sentence, but i'll never let go. You can pry these commas from my cold, dead, grammatically confused hands. Anyways this is just the prologue, so it's (probably) not going to be written like this in the near future. Anyways I'm excited to introduce Luna in the next chapter. I'm really excited to give her a few more character traits aside from "virtuous" and "dead".
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
